


Gray in the Dark

by TigerShark



Category: Burn Notice, Dexter (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-28
Updated: 2014-02-28
Packaged: 2018-01-14 02:19:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1249081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TigerShark/pseuds/TigerShark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The night life in Miami can get a little .. interesting</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta read. Read at your peril. Will be edited and revised later. Slow build. SLOW build.

When you're a spy you spend a lot of time waiting in dark places. Its kind of amazing what you can see. In Afghanistan I watched two camels making love by moonlight, their bellowing cries echoing out over the scrub. In cities you mostly saw people going about their business. Lights flickering on and off, music behind solid walls. These short glimpses into the lives of husbands, wives, children, drunks, horny teens.... a little bit of everything.

In Miami I watched another watcher. More accurately I watched his elbow and just a bare slice of ear and hair in profile. He was very good. I was just … well not better. But at a better angle. We were both watching the back of a row of houses. He had picked the low perch, tucked into the angle between a garage and a back deck of a quiet house and angled towards number 8 Palm Street. I was higher up, on a roof belonging to an elderly lady who took her hearing aid out at night and watching number 6.

I was looking for a certain drug running bookie who had abducted a young girl to make her father pay up. I wondered who he was looking for.

This was the third night of our quiet mutual vigil. My gray friend was late. Of course so was my bookie. I was beginning to think Fi's friends info wasn't going to pan out. That the bookie had skipped town and I was going to have to dig up his buddy, brainless thug #2.

Movement at number 8. Huh. And there was my quiet gray clad friend, sliding gently out of the open back door, and closing it carefully behind himself. He paused and turned, looking over the ground. From this angle his face was in deep shadow. But his body .. fascinating body language. Powerful, controlled, strong.

He moved silently through the yard of number 8, pausing here and there. I watched him, fascinated. What was he looking for? Whatever he hadn't found in the house at a guess. I mentally went through the list .. guns, drugs, money, bodies.

Gray stopped moving near the garden shed. A few busy moments at the door and he slid into the dark shed interior. Huh. Quick with the picks. Gray kept getting more and more interesting.

A few long rustled minutes and a flash of light under the edge of the door later and Gray came back out of the shed. He had a limp bundle, wrapped in black plastic tucked under one arm. A body. That's what Gray had been looking for. But not a big body. Damn. A child's body. Gray disappeared into the dark shadows along the side of the house and was gone like a ghost.

The rest of the night was uneventful. But oh was my curiosity on fire. Spies were kind of like cats. You see something fascinating scurrying away and you can't help but want to chase it.

So rather than call off the watch, I went back for one more night. And there was Gray, tucked into his little corner. Number 8's kitchen window is still lit up. It was friday night and the neighborhood was fairly deserted. Most people were in bed already or out at bars, drinking their woes into oblivion.

The light winked out at number eight. I wasn't even pretending to watch number 6 anymore. Gray didn't move a muscle. A light cast its buttery yellow square from the bedroom window. A few minutes and that went out too.

Most people reach a deep sleep cycle about a half hour in. After fifteen minutes Gray left his niche. The front door of number six slammed shut.

Shit.

I slithered down off my perch. Damn damn damn. 

A quick text to Sam to come in the front and I went in at the back. But the bookie had ducked into the hall closet for some stupid reason and so when we burst into the bedroom to catch him, he rabbited out the closet and through the kitchen to the back door.

I followed him right into the yard, gun in my hand, held low. He hurdled the fence into number eights yard and there was Gray just coming out the back door. Gray with a body slung over his shoulder startled into immobility like a tiger caught at the hunt.

My bookie stopped too and I slammed into him from behind. He skidded on the damp grass on his belly. I pinned him and and one zip tie and a pinch to the carotid artery and he was a limp weight on the ground.

I stood up carefully. Gray had backed up into the shadows. The door behind him was locked, he had a body on his shoulder, but one black gloved hand was in a suspiciously bulging pocket.

“woah woah. Its ok man.” I held my hands up in a peaceful gesture, gun swinging loosely from one finger.

I carefully moved to slide my gun back in the holster. Gray tensed as I moved, and relaxed minutely when I stopped.

“Hey. I got mine, you got yours. We're all good.” He just stared at me with cold dark eyes. Oh man I was right. This was definitely a killer. Pure and simple. But with the kids body the other day .. I think I'm giving this guy a pass.

“I'm just going to pick up my guy and go back the way I came. Ok?” My best big harmless smile.

Gray nodded, just a bare duck of the head, eyes never leaving mine.

I hefted the bookie over my shoulder and backed away. Gray watched me go, face emotionless, eyes flat and expressionless. He was utterly still.

“Mikey?” Crap. Its Sam. 

“Stay put Sam. I got him.” I dumped the guy over the fence and slowly swung myself over one leg at a time. Last thing I want is to spook this guy. Eyes like that, its hard to tell what could happen.

Sam came and grabbed the bookie, gun out. 

“Who is that guy?” He was staring right at Gray.

“Just another hunter, out picking up a late night snack” I quipped.

Sam and Gray snorted in unison.

“I've been watching him the last three nights Sam. He's just after that bastard.”

“Yeah? What for?” Sam asked, me or Gray I'm not sure.

Gray ducked his head, holding that heavy weight steady. I saw he was tensed to run again.

“Well going by the kid sized body bag yesterday Sam, I think he's got a damned good reason to vanish that guy. So Sam. You take our bookie back to the car.”

“And you my patient gray friend. Take your … prey.. and good hunting.” I smiled and backed away. Every spy appreciated a professional.

“Nice knowing that someones cleaning in Miami.” And I went back past the side of number six and to the car and back to the job at hand. Girl, victim, drug runners. Just a normal night in the life of Michael Westin, Ex Spy.


	2. Ships in the Night

“So Mikey I ran that guy from number 8 Palm Street.” Sam flopped into the chair opposite mine. He placed his beer carefully on the table.

“Seems like one Mr Joel Johnson, divorced father of one missing boy hasn't been seen since last Friday night. No signs of a struggle, nobody noticed he was gone until he didn't show up for work.”

“Well I had a feeling he wouldn't be coming back Sam. Gray looked like he meant business.” I said.

“Yeeaaaah. So the son has been missing for about a year, and surprise surprise, cops tried to pin it on the dad. But the case came apart, witness copped out, something like that. You know.” Sam took a swig.

“I told you everything I saw. From my angle on that roof just a tiny bit of Gray, for three days. He didn’t make a sound, didn’t move a muscle. Just watched, got to know Johnsons routines. For all I know he'd been watching for a while before we got there.”

“Yeah you told me where he was. Damn hard to see. That's a long time to wait though. Personal you think?”

“Mmmm. I don't think so. I really had the feeling that he wasn't new to this game.” I toyed with my sunglasses. It is strange how attached you can get to someone you only saw from a distance in the dark. I had spent so much time wondering who he was, why he was. I want to know more. I probably never would.

“Honestly Mikey, I don't think it's safe poking around that guy too much.”

“I don't know Sam. He seemed to appreciate a little professional courtesy.” I grinned at Sam.

Fi sauntered her way into the bar. As usual she is wearing about two square inches of nothing in the name of a blouse and tight denim shorts. Leather sandals, swinging tote bag and giant black buglike sunglasses finished the look of a tourist. Fi really enjoyed Miami. Everyone in Miami, at least the men, enjoyed Fi enjoying Miami.

“Hey Fi! Glad you could join us.” Sam joked, waving his beer in her direction.

Fi looked at Sam over her sunglasses and dismissed him without a word.

“So Mike. Looks like the guy we want goes to a hot little spot called Vida Loca down by Sun Beach.”

“Sun Beach. Mm thats good.” We turned our attention to the business of extractions. Some time later Fi had swished out again with Sam heading off to yet another date with one of his half his age beach babes. Man kept on trying. One day he'd land one who could put up with his lifestyle.

I heaved a sigh and sipped at my drink. Finish this, go home, maybe work out some....

And then a killer walked into the bar.

I kept sipping at my mojito, my eyes fixed on the mirror.

The mans eyes scanned the bar, flickering over the women, the waitresses, the men, most of the patrons. I could practically feel when the mans eyes locked on me. He abandoned his previous direction and headed straight towards me. Crap.

Gray stepped up to the bar, seating himself on the chair next to me.

I mentally took a deep breath. “Nice night isn't it.” I said, turning to half face Gray on the seat next to me.

Gray smiled at me sheepishly, a perfect nice guy. “Hey. Yeah its nice when it gets this cool in the summer.”

Oookay. He's fishing.

“Just finishing up after a work meeting. I swear my partner just picks bars so he can try to stiff me with the bill.” I said. Fish fish fish. This is one of those awkward little conversations spies and other liars have. Do you remember me? I remember you. It's not like you can blurt out to a stranger 'hey aren't you that guy I saw kidnapping the child killer the other night?”

“Yeah coworkers can be trouble.” Gray said. “But I usually work by myself, much simpler.”

“I know, right? But you meet such interesting people out on the job sometimes.” I smiled at Gray. There goes the fishy, please don’t slice it into ribbons.

“I thought you looked familiar.” Gray said slowly.

“Would you believe this is a total co-oincidence?” I said with a placating grin.

“Is it? 'Mikey'?” Gray isn't giving away anything.

“Absolutely.” I smile reassuringly. “and here is proof for you. My card. Name, number, there you go. Now you can find me when you want to talk to me.”

“Fake cards are easy.” Gray smiled at the bartender and paid for his drink. Plain beer, in a bottle, nothing exciting. He barely sipped it.

“You are so right. But seriously man … I have nothing against you. You're just a guy I saw out on a thing. In fact from what I know of the owner of that house, I'm glad you were out there doing your job. Quiet, clean, sure. No muss, no fuss. I see a lot of bad people out in the world. Knowing someone is cleaning up? A good thing.”

“And what were you doing with Mr Harold Esperanza?” Gray asked, drinking his beer and smiling at me. The perfect imitation of guy at bar talking to guy at bar.

“Catch and release man. Asked the guy some questions, got the information needed to get some poor kids out of trouble, and cut him loose. Now its possible the bad guys who he sang about may have been unhappy with him. But that's not on me.” I finished the last of my drink.

“Now you don't have to trust me, I don't have to trust you. But I'm going to. I'm going to get up and walk out of this bar, and walk away. And that's it.” I stood up slowly and slid my glasses on.

A spy walked out of the bar. A killer watched him go. Miami nightlife at its finest.


	3. Darker Than Gray

It was over six months before we saw our friendly gray wearing cleaner again.

We had picked up a gig involving bookies. Again. Honestly if they just deported all the bookies in Miami there'd be fewer suicides and traffic jams. This time we needed to corral the enforcer, Benito Gomez, before he could splatter the latest slow payer all over the city. He loved sports bars, so we planned to pick up up from his favorite. Tito's. Sam would run backup, with Fi in the van and I, as a friendly neighborhood minion of the infamous and versatile Chuck Finley, would start talking Benny into a new job as an enforcer for Chuck. When you are a spy, you often find some pseudonyms take on a life of their own. At this point Fiona tells me that 'Chuck Finley' had a reputation as a powerful and mysterious hardass. 

We didn't care about the enforcer, just getting to Benny's boss and shutting down their operation. Our latest client, an unlucky civil servant with a yen for the ponies, was being pressured to sign off on customs shipments. So we needed to make the business less profitable for a while.

Tito's was your typical Miami sports bar. Loud, dark, full of large sweaty men shouting at the huge TV's on a game night. Male bonding.

Benny disappeared into the mens room to take a leak. I shifted to keep an eye on the door, and idly glanced around the bar. One bouncer, watching the door of the bar. Looking fine so far.

Then the utility door down the hallway opened and a solidly built figure in gray slid through. Almost without a pause, he scanned the hall and opened the mens room door just enough to fit inside. I barely got a glimpse of the man. I stiffened in my seat. Sam fixed his attention on me. 

I nodded my head towards the bouncer. I don't know who that was but its a bad sign. I need that intel and I can't get it if the guy is shot dead in the john.

As a pseudo drunk Sam expertly accosted the bouncer, getting all of his attention on Sams wild flailing with the beer bottle and loud yelling, I sprinted down the hall.

Shit shit shit.

As I came into the bathroom I heard a thud from the large handicapped stall on the end. I could see two pairs of feet, not moving. Loud footsteps echoed down the hall behind me. The bouncer saw me run off.

Shit.

Thinking fast I dropped to the floor and rolled into the stall. I popped back to my feet as far away from the two men as I could.

Oh.

Well. That changes things.

“Gray! Nice to meet you again. Grab his arms.” Gray looks very affronted that I have burst my way into his abduction. I grabbed the unconscious Bennys leg's.

Gray stopped for a moment, then the bathroom door banged open. Together, we slung Benny up onto the tank of the toilet, draping him inelegantly across the toilet and handrails. Gray glowered at me. Huh. Red hair .. I wouldn't have guessed it without the too bright lights in here.

“Uhh. Please just play along.” I murmured.

“Oh c'mon baby. I promise I wasn't looking at that guys dick.” I said loudly, in a beseeching tone.

Grays face was incredibly funny. Anger, intense focus,and confusion all together.

“What can I do to make it better” I almost cooed and dropped to my knees, making sure the thug outside could see my legs under the wall of the bathroom. I tugged Grays belt and he shuffled awkwardly to me, keeping one hand braced on Benny.

“You want me to be jealous” Gray finally blurted. Smoooth. Well he's no spy.

“What can I think honeybunch? I haven't seen you for so long ...” I start to say and finally the bouncer banged on the wall of the stall.

“Shut up you fags!”

I grinned up at Gray. Score! “You shut up bitch” I hollered out.

“Wheres the guy that came in here?”

“Fuck if I know asshole. He came in, said something about fags and then left.” I did my best impression of an angry gay guy in a bathroom.

The bouncer muttered something rude in spanish and banged out of the bathroom again.

Silence reigned for a moment. Benny started to slide off the toilet.

We both braced the body.  
“Jeez Gray, what did you use on him? that was damned fast. You had maybe fifteen seconds after I saw you come in here.”

Gray looked at me measuringly. I could see him weighing options, considering responses. Calculating if he should deny recognizing me.

“Look man I don't mean to crash your party again or anything. But I kind of need to ask him a few questions.” I asked, with my best charming smile. Not that I think it'll work. Gray seemed a little .. well one of those stone cold killer guys, really. Hot. But dangerous. Kind of like Fiona. Hmmm

“What kind of questions.” Gray gritted out. He really doesn't want to talk, I think all the light and the exposed position makes him uncomfortable. Can't blame him really.

“Who his boss is, who they work for. I need to shut down his business, save some poor idiots life.”

“He's killed at least four people.” Gray finally answered.

“Yeah., real scumsucker. I don't want to keep him. He gives me my intel and you can do whatever you like. I'll even hold your hat while you do it.”

“I don't have a hat.” he's puzzled again. Ah socially limited, very literal. Gotcha.

“It's a figure of speech. What do you say we continue this out in my van?” I could tell Gray isn't comfortable about that, but it was better then in the mens room at a bar.

He draped Benny's arms across his shoulder in an approximation of a drunk friend carry. I enter the hall first, blocking the view with my body and the door. Gray dragged the victim across the hall and into the utility hall. I closed the door behind us and ghosted down the short hall and to the door to the alley where they drop the garbage.

Woof. A nice hot alley full of garbage in Miami. Really clears the sinuses. I tried not to breathe.

Sam was a silhouette at the end of the alley, casually waiting and toying with his phone. He glanced back at us and away negligently. And then texted Fi, who pulled the van up to the curb.

It was a matter of seconds to rush into the van and then Sam swung up front with Fi and the van pulled into traffic. Now I was shut in the back of a windowless van, with an unconscious victim and an uncomfortable stranger with violent tendencies. Just my kind of thursday night

“Mike?” says Fi. He could tell she has her hand on a gun where they cant see it. “Who is your cute friend?” Sam glanced at them in the rearview mirror as she made another turn, taking them further from the club.

“Gray, this is Fi and Sam who you met last time we ran into each other. My team.”

Gray hunched his shoulders, ducking his head down further into shadows and kept his grip on Benny. “What do you want with my' .. he looks at Benny “the subject.” 

Hmm interesting switch of words.

“Just what I said Gray.” I let go of Benny and spread my hands reassuringly. Its kind of hard to project harmless over a body while cramped in the back of a van. I do my government approved best.

“I just want to ask the man a few questions and then you can have him. You can even have the van. We only borrowed it for the extraction.”

The van turned and bumped into an uneven parking lot and then into the open door of a warehouse. Sam pulled up at the side where a nice metal chair is waiting.

Sam and Fi opened the doors of the van. I'm sure we made an interesting picture. Me trying to make nice, and Gray wedged into the furthest corner clutching his victim with a sullen look. I tried to put the image of a tiger cuddling its dinner out of my mind after it occured.

“Hey Gray” Sam said, jovial as always.

Gray nodded back. Oh good. Social niceties, somebody trained this boy. Lets hope they covered 'play with others'.

I scrambled carefully out of the van.

“Sam. The keys.” I held out my hand, keeping my eyes locked on Gray.

“Mikey?” Sam asked but threw the keys to me anyways.

I gently tossed the keys into the van.

“There you go. Now you control the vehicle. Now I'd like to take Benny out of there and tie him to this nice metal chair until he answers my questions. And then I give him back and we all walk away like professionals.” Grays grip loosened. Huh. That pushed a button. I'm guessing he doesn't get much respect for his work.

“Sam? Fi? Keep an eye out while Gray and I handle our guest?” Fi harrumphed and stalked off. Gray watched her leave, but doesn't focus on her ass like most. Just on her very large gun. I saw his eyes flick to the bump at the back of her belt where the knife is. Smart boy.

“So what'll it be Gray? Let me do my job and help some poor customs clerk from getting killed? Or just take your party favor and go? I won't push. I'm sure I'm throwing off your timing. You seem like a careful guy about his work.” I backed away from the van.

I half sat on the edge of the metal table nearby, helpfully laid out with the tools we thought we'd need.

Gray seemed to come to a conclusion. He rolled Benny over and in a very few economical motions, zip tied his hands and ankles and emerged from the van. He scanned the area, taking in the quiet, the clear lines of sight to the three exits and the interrogation setup nearby. I stayed very still, attempting to look harmless. This kind of reminds me of trying to coax a wild animal out.

Gray slid Benny out of the van and then with little visible effort hoisted him up on one shoulder. He carried the man the fifteen feet to the metal chair and dumped him in. Glancing over our worktables, he goes right past and to the discarded rolls of plastic wrap left forlornly on a shelf from when this was a warehouse.

Benny is quickly duct taped, and wrapped up tightly. He doesn't move, just kepy breathing steadily. Gray expertly checks his pulse and vitals.

“He'll wake up naturally in about half an hour, or you can use these and wake him up in about ten minutes.” Showing me some smelling salt capsules. He said, his voice low and monotone. “You get half an hour after that and then I need to keep a schedule.”

“Good! Great!.” I said smiling “I'm so glad you decided to do us a big favour Gray. Beer? While we wait?”

“No thanks.” Gray was definitely uncomfortable.

I had a hunch and I think its worth it to keep Gray happy with us. After all we did barge in on him. “Hey Sam” I call “can you drop about half the lights?”

“Sure kiddo” Sam called back. A few moments later and the warehouse was much dimmer. As I figured that seemed to make Gray more comfortable.

“Why do you have a team?” Gray asked.

“My name is Michael Westin and I used to be a spy. An american spy, just to clarify. “ I smiled brightly “ But then some assholes wanted to use me and had some stuff falsified and I was burned. No money, no job and stuck in Miami. So I've been working on fixing that and in the meantime helping people out, righting wrongs. You know. Doing my job. I need a hand here and there sometimes, you know how it is.”

“Have you killed people?” The question was as flat as everything else. Gray seemed kind of … monotone even for him.

“Only when I absolutely have too.” I said calmly and honestly looking the man in the eyes. Blue. Gray has dark blue eyes. I had no idea what Grey's buttons are, and a guy as wound as this has buttons. I dearly want to avoid those buttons. 

“I try not to, but if a bad guy is shooting at me, I shoot back at them. We do our best not to involve civilians.” I continued.

He pondered that for a moment. “Why do you call me Gray?”

I smiled tightly “I had to call you something. For three days I watched your elbow, your ear and the corner of your head. Just a gray shape two houses down I could barely see. But I think it suits you.”

“Better than some of the other things I've been called.” He muttered, checking Benny again.

“Would it be nosy if I asked?” 

He seemed to think about this for a minute. “The Dark Defender” His smile is dark and wicked. “I liked that one. Its more true.” Ok. Mental note. Make him smile like that again.

“Dark Defender … yeah that has a certain something. Could be a great comic character” I agreed

He knelt down fluidly and patted at Bennys face. “You can use the smelling salts now.”

“Well I think I'll keep calling you Gray. If thats ok with you of course.” I said.

Gray stood up and backed away, keeping all of us in his view. “Gray is .. good. It works.”

“Shall I … be intimidating?” he asked, toying with one of the knives laid out on the table.

I smiled at him brightly “Oh just stand there and be your handsome menacing self. Let me do the talking.” His face went a little blank. Hmm ok, not used to flirting.

Benny moaned weakly when I break the vial of smelling salts under his nose. Adopting a rough irish accent I gently slapped his face. “ Wakey wakey sunshine.”

It only took a few questions, and asking 'Grayson' to bring that cleaver over, and 'don't be so enthusiastic this time neither I still haven't gotten the spots outta that coat' before Benny cracked. Hired muscle. Bunch of pushovers sometimes.

When I'm finally done I taped Bennys mouth closed. But when I turned to ask Gray how he'd like his subject .. Gray was passed out, head pillowed on his arms, still cuddling the knife like a toy. Cute... for a certain value of cute. Poor guy must have been overworking himself. Hard job to do this work alone I guess.

I texted Sam and Fi to come back in. Normally we'd just knock out the guy, leave him loosely restrained and leave. But with Gray in the picture we were going to have to do something else. 

“Good.” hissed Fi “we can just leave and let them sort it out”

Sam just kind of shrugged and whispers. “Might be the safe bet Mikey … I for one don't want to wake that guy”

“Oh c'mon Sam it can’t be any worse than trying to wake me up.” I grinned.

“Mike theres a reason I try to wake you up from a reasonable distance .. like Ft Lauderdale.” Sam cracked. Fiona snorted in reaction, and at that noise, Gray lifted his head and blinked at us blearily. Before I could say anything, he nodded back down and closed his eyes.

“Gray?” 

I thought for a minute. Well I could just walk away and let Gray and Benny figure themselves out. But that just didn't sit right by me. When you are a spy, and someone does you a favor , you try to do them a favor back. Keep the books balanced. You never know when you're going to end up needing another favor.

So walking away was out.

“Fi. Bring me my blue duffel from my car, and then you and Sam split. I'll keep an eye on the sleeping beauties here.”

“You sure Mike? I don't feel good about leaving you alone with dark and deadly there.”

“I'm going to stay all the way over here. In a half hour or so I'll try to wake up him up. In the meantime you need to get eyes on that boss. Fi, can you check in with our client? I'll wrap up here. Should be home by dawn.” They left reluctantly.

After I injected Benny it was a very peaceful hour. Gray snuffled slightly, head pillowed in his arm, Benny sat like a sack of potatoes in his saran wrap.

I was slowly reading through an improbable action scene in a spy novel and smirking when a phone rang. It appeared to coming from Gray. Well. This is a dilemma.

I waited carefully, hands in plain sight and not moving as Gray groggily fished for his phone and answered it.

“Rita.” He said, voice rough with sleep. “ What? no. what? I … no. wait.” He shook his head groggily. I could just hear a shrill womans voice screaming tinnily through the phone.

I stood up and came over to the table. Gray looked up at me, one hand on his scalpel and one holding the phone about a foot from his ear. He was obviously not entirely together yet. I gestured for the phone.

He handed it to me and then seemed to second guess it and tried to grab the phone back. I leaned back out of grabbing range.

“Rita? Hey. This is John.”

“John? who the hell is John?”

“Oh I met our friend out at a bar. We were talking and next thing I know he falls asleep on me. So I hauled him back to my place to sleep it off. I hope I haven't worried you.” I smiled charmingly into the phone. People can hear when you are smiling, so even if you are lying to them from 2000 miles away, smile. Be friendly, be charming.

“He was supposed to be back at midnight? Wow I'm so sorry. Are you ok? He's still really out of it. I'm not sure he's safe to drive honestly.”

“mmhmm. So you don't really need him til noon to drive you to the doctors. Well I'll try to have him back by then but we'll see. I'm sure he can help pay for a cab if he doesn't make it. Bye” I hung up the phone and muted it.

“Wow. Sorry to get you in trouble with the lady, Gray.”

Gray was rubbing his eyes blearily with his black gloved hands. I am so glad he put the knife down.

“I think I bought you some time, but shes still going to be ticked. I suggest flowers.” I said gently, hoisting one hip up on the table and handing his phone back after reflexively rubbing it down for prints.

I watched him for a moment and then I went and rummaged in my blue duffel bag. Any spy knows to be prepared for suddenly having to sit and wait for a long time. It could be a stake out, it could be a doctors office or an interrogation room. Wherever you are a few little things make life go much smoother … some bottled water, powerbars, a book and my favorite little tin of pick me ups and put me downs.

I put two of the caffeine pills and a sealed bottle of water in front of Gray.

“Here. Caffeine, water. And then we really need to deal with the loose end here” I gesture towards Benny with my head.

Gray looked at his watch. He carefully examined the seal on the water. I stifled a grin. Man he's paranoid. Its so nice to see in someone that isn't me. He fished in his pocket for a little metal tin so much like mine and took out his own pills.

“You have enough time left? I have a place I can stick this guy on ice until tomorrow.”

“Its one o clock. Not enough time to be.. thorough. But its doable.”

“Ok then. Why don't you and I and sleepyhead take a drive out to wherever you need to go, I nap in the van while you do your thing and then I drive you back to your car, maybe buy you breakfast on the way.”

Gray was staring at me like I'm crazy.

“I don't understand you.” He finally said. “You seem to know what I'm going to do and you don't care.”

“Gray , I'm a spy. I've been a spy for a long time. Where you get spies you get all the other guys that help a spy do his job. Information brokers, gun sellers, guys who make special tools, money guys, fences, and cleaners. Why should I get worked up about another guy doing his job? I'm a spy. I lie and trick people and sometimes shoot them. You clean up the little messes.”

Gray stood and stretched. I could hear his joints popping from here. Muscles slid under his tight gray shirt. Damn but the guy is built under that. I can't help but remember how well he handled Benny's bulk last night.

“You seem to think I'm paid to do this.” He said mildly, hand trailing over the handle of the big cleaver on the table. We've never used it, but it sure scares people to see it.

“Wow. This is strictly recreational for you? Damn. Thats dedication.” I managed to say. Oh great. An artistic one.

“Not exactly recreational.” He said with a half smile. “More of a compulsion. But I'm a careful monster. I only do the ones that … deserve it.”

“Hey man he's the monster.” I gestured at the guy in the chair. “You're just cleaning up. Can't fault a man for wanting his city to be tidy.”

He snorted half a laugh in response.

“You drive us back to near the club. I'll get my car and then we can swap the cargo in a nice empty spot near there.”

“You sure you'll be okay working on that tonight? You seem pretty out of it.”

“I need to.” His expression is very dark, very intense.

Ooookay . 

“Alright Gray. I'm not going to argue with you. Just .. you know .. if you ever need another pair of hands or even some intel, you have my card.”

“Michael Westen, spy. Known associates Fiona Glennane, Barry no last name, Sam no last name and Chuck Finley. Probably related to one of the two Westen families in Miami.”

“Yup. Sounds like me. Gray, that I know almost nothing about. See? This is me not prying. I can tell you are a private kind of guy and I respect that. So we're going to do your drop and swap and I'll drive happily away.”


End file.
